


Twist and Shout

by Kael_Vercorian



Series: Through the Multiverse [5]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Blackmail, Bondage, Impact Play, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rimming, Rough Oral Sex, Spanking, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:14:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24725851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kael_Vercorian/pseuds/Kael_Vercorian
Summary: Tobirama is a professional contortionist, going about his normal routine, when he's kidnapped by an obsessed fan. After a weekend of forced passion, he's let go, blackmailed into silence. He thinks that'll be the end of it, a memory to be repressed, but Madara isn't done with him yet.
Relationships: Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara
Series: Through the Multiverse [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1316339
Comments: 8
Kudos: 98





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of a prompt I initially answered in my Afterlife story. It was roughly 10,000 words when I was finished, but I still had many ideas left over. A few people asked for me to continue it, so I decided to make it into its own little mini story.
> 
> I broke up what I had already written into two chapters, tweaking a few lines here and there. Those will be the first two chapters, of which I currently have four written. I just need to finish editing everything and post it, then I'll get to work on the next chapter. 
> 
> As for the title, I wanted either the word 'twist' or 'bend' in it, as a reference to Tobirama being a contortionist. I had heard of the song 'Twist and Shout', so I checked out the lyrics and they kind of fit how Madara feels about Tobirama.

Tobirama shares a grin with his fellow contortionists as the crowd cheers, awed by their series of bends and flips. It becomes clear the longer the show goes on which of the audience have never seen a contortionist show, shock and almost a little horror at some of their more daring poses.

The crowd goes nuts when they end the show with their suitcase routine. It’s a tight squeeze, but he fits into the clear case while one of his coworkers wheels him around the stage. But as amusing as their reactions are, it’s always a bit relieving when it’s over, crawling out of the suitcase and getting back on his feet.

They take a bow as the audience claps, exiting the stage just as the next performers step forward. He chats with his coworkers on the way out, but breaks off from the group to head to his own tent. While he would normally change and perhaps shower after a show, he’s exhausted tonight. It’s his day off tomorrow, so he’ll take a long shower in the morning.

Tobirama leaves his tent slightly unzipped as he settles in for the night. The city was going through its summer heat right now, and he needed all the airflow he could get. With security patrolling the grounds, he wasn’t worried about anyone attacking him in his sleep, and he kept the tent locked up while he was working.

He collapses onto his bed, muscles slowly unwinding. It takes only a few minutes to fall asleep, having trained himself years ago to tune out the sounds of circus life. Even the distant sounds of fans cheering don’t bother him anymore.

  
  


Tobirama wakes an undefinable time later, feeling strange, his mind hazy and body aching in a few places. He tries to stretch out, eyes shooting open when he _can’t move._ All that meets his eyes is darkness, no matter which way he turns his head. Panic threatens to overwhelm him, taking deep breaths to remain calm.

He takes stock of what he can feel. Fabric across his eyes, like a blindfold. Metal around his wrists, keeping his arms behind his back. Rope around his ankles and knees, his legs bent and pressed up against his chest. Hard plastic between his teeth, smooth but with what feels like tiny holes. A ball gag with air holes? 

The space he’s in feels small, snug but familiar. Like the suitcase he first started practicing with, large enough to sit up straight, but pressing him in from all sides. If he wasn’t used to fitting himself into much smaller spaces on a daily basis, he would already be feeling the claustrophobia.

As it is, it’s still nerve-wracking to wake tied up in a suitcase. No idea of where he is, who kidnapped him, or what they want. What’s worse, the ground feels like it’s moving, and he can hear cars _very_ close by. Is he in the trunk of someone’s car?

Tobirama struggles, but there’s no give in the ropes. He’s not an escape artists like Braxton, who can somehow get out of handcuffs while a tank slowly fills with water. And even if he did have any skill with that, there’s no room to maneuver in here. He’s just stuck here, lying on his side, wondering what’s going to happen to him.

He tries to take comfort from the fact that he’s still dressed, hopefully in his show outfit, but his kidnapper could have just been in a hurry. Or wants to take his time undressing him when they reach their destination. Honestly, he only has a slim hope that they want him for something else. He’s received plenty of comments about his looks and flexibility.

What else would they want him for? He’s not famous enough to have rapid fans. His company makes good profit, but not enough to be worth the risk of ransoming him out.

Tobirama bites down on the gag when the car comes to a complete stop, the sound of the motor cutting off. He doesn’t hear any other cars. Trepidation wells up in him when the trunk opens, and someone starts moving the suitcase.

It’s a distinctively unpleasant feeling to have someone he doesn’t know hauling him around like this. Completely different from having a trusted coworker moving him around the stage. Unbidden, an irritated noise escapes his throat, muffled behind the gag.

The kidnapper ignores him. Drags the rolling suitcase for about a minute before he hears a door opening. Rolled along some more. Another door opens. Then a zipper and air against his side.

He’s gently tipped out, hands steadying him until he’s sitting on the floor. Cold tile against his bare feet. The only sound in the room his own harsh breathing, shivering from a mix of nerves and cold.

Tobirama flinches when hands start touching him, maneuvering him around. He tries to fight it, but the other’s grip is like steel. New cuffs are put on his wrists before the handcuffs are taken off, then his arms are raised in front of him, above his head. He can barely bend his elbows, arms firmly secured to reach for the ceiling.

His legs are next, ankles untied before the other starts pulling down his pants. Metals cuffs are put on his feet to pin them to the floor, then the ropes around his knees are cut. One foot is freed at a time to take his pants off, not giving him proper leverage to kick out.

Then the cuffs around his ankles start pulling, spreading his legs obscenely wide. He tries to hold them together, a mortified blush burning hot in his cheeks. A sharp slap against his inner thigh shocks him into stillness, giving his captor time to get him in place.

The shirt comes off next, with the same procedure. One wrist freed at a time, a firm grip not allowing him to fight back. He shivers as the cold floor presses against his legs, forced into doing the splits, arms high above his head. Even worse was his cock and balls lying across the cold floor, unable to cover up no matter how much he squirms.

“Beautiful.”

Tobirama jerks in surprise, head turning sharply to the right at the sound of that deep voice.

“Anyone ever tell you how stunning you are? I could hardly believe my eyes when I first saw you, nearly a month ago. I was hard before your show was even halfway finished, aching to touch you and fuck that perfect ass. And now I’ve got you all to myself, with no one expecting you back until the day after tomorrow. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get home on time. Wouldn’t want you to miss your next show.”

Tobirama’s stomach sinks. Alone with this man for two days? The only silver lining is that he apparently doesn’t intend to kill him. Small mercies.

A clicking sound pulls him out his thoughts. He makes a questioning noise as he hears it again. Please tell him that isn’t a camera.

“Ah, noticed that, did you? I’m documenting our time together. It’s fun memories for me and incentive for you. I think I was discrete enough not to get caught, but just in case. You keep your mouth shut about all this, or the pictures will go up online. Understand?”

Tobirama glares behind the blindfold, reluctantly nodding his head. He’s not sure he could stomach to tell anyone about this, anyway, but it pisses him off to have the option taken away. And it leaves a sour taste in his mouth to think about this man having nude pictures of him, never knowing what he’ll do with them.

“Good boy,” he purrs, ruffling Tobirama’s hair. “Let me just get the camera set up and we can get started.”

He shifts restlessly as his captor moves around, flinching at the sudden sound of running water. Were they in the bathroom? It seems to take forever before the water stops, then a slight thump near him. A bucket, maybe?

What was the water even for? His hands clench around the chains holding them up, a spike of nerves hitting. His captor wasn’t into water play, was he? He couldn’t take two days of being half-drowned!

In sharp contrast to his panic, soft music begins to fill the room. It shocks him into calming down, instinctively looking around for the source despite its futility. Stupid blindfold.

Why on earth was his captor playing music? Especially songs that sounded _sensual._ For fucks sake, was he playing _mood music?_

“You look grumpy. Music not to your taste?”

Tobirama makes an irritated sound.

“Mm. I’ll flip to the next song.”

Tobirama shakes his head but keeps quiet as a new song comes on. As if the music was the issue here!

He tenses as footsteps approach, abruptly reminded of his earlier concerns as he hears the water, but all that happens is a wet sponge touching his back. It feels soapy, dragging across his shoulders, down his spine, brushing across the top of his ass, then back up.

“I noticed you went to sleep in your skintight suit. After performing on and off all day, I figured you could use a bath. I’ll get you nice and clean before the main event.”

His arms are next, the soft sponge going over them quickly but efficiently. It’s his legs that the man takes the longest cleaning, lingering on his inner thighs when he shivers. He hates it, but he can feel his body reacting. His thighs are _sensitive_ and trying to squirm away just makes the man focus on them more.

He’s hard by the time he’s done with his legs, biting down on the gag to repress a moan as the sponge drags across his erect nipples. Rubs down his stomach so light it almost tickles. Then back up, ignoring the part of his body craving touch the most.

“Close your eyes, Tobirama. I need to get your hair wet.”

Tobirama ducks his head as water pours over him, warm and quick enough that he doesn’t have time to panic. Soapy hands come next, kneading at his scalp. He can’t entirely stifle a moan at that, tilting his head back, _into_ the touch. Another weak point discovered.

“Alright. Just a couple more places and then we can rinse you off.”

He jerks as a hand grabs his cock, stroking twice, then down to his balls, thumb rubbing the soap in. The man doesn’t linger, touch moving to his ass, stroking soapy fingers over his hole. He makes a small sound, muscles tensing as sensitive nerves are stimulated.

“Fuck,” his captor curses softly. “Your ass is a work of art.”

Tobirama bites back a sound of loss as the touch disappears. Warm water starts to pour over him, and he quickly closes his eyes. He’s thoroughly rinsed from head to toe, a hand ruffling his hair to make sure all the shampoo is out.

“There we go, all clean now. Hmm. The next stage will require a different position.”

Chains clink, his right arm lowers, tugged to the side. It stops, hovering in the air awkwardly while his other arm is lowered. Once they’re both out at his side, the chains begin tugging, pulling his fingers out towards his feet, forcing him to bend forward. It leaves his ass better exposed, which is what he assumes his captor wants.

“Lovely. Now I just need to get something from the other room. Back in a moment.”

Tobirama pulls at the chains after he’s left, trying to get free to no avail. It doesn’t give at all, leaving him sprawled out on the floor, cock leaking as his squirming effectively has him humping the ground. He stops abruptly as that thought makes him throb, arousal flushing through him.

He wasn’t getting off on this, was he? It was just the physical stimulation!

His turmoil is cut off when the door opens again, turning his head toward the sound. He waits with mounting tension for the man’s next move, tensing as something cuts through the air to land across his ass with a loud _smack._ His struggles renew as it happens again, something like a crop hitting him again and again. 

He’s not being gentle about it either! Pain and heat spread across his ass, his protests muffled by the gag. His cock drips, smearing precum against the floor as his hips rock, trying to get away but only serving to arouse him further.

It goes on for several minutes, unrelenting. He stops trying to stifle his moans, getting lost in the moment. It’s not until his moans take on a higher pitch, desperate and pleading, that the strikes halt. He whines softly, rubbing his cock against the floor, so close to cumming that he could cry.

Tobirama shakes slightly as his hips are grabbed. His captor moves languidly, unhurried as he wraps something tight around the base of his cock. He garbles out a protest, tongue pushing against the gag. All he gets in return is laughter and a condescending pat on the head.

“Don’t pout, Tobirama. You’ll get to cum eventually…assuming you’re obedient. Disobey too much and I’ll keep you aroused two days straight, drop you off home still hard and aching. You don’t want that, do you?”

Tobirama shakes his head.

“Alright then. I’m going to put your arms back up. Be a good boy and don’t struggle.”

Too aroused to protest, Tobirama remains docile, letting his captor stretch his arms up again. His hips still squirm a bit, trying to get friction on his aching cock, though it’s more of a tease now that he can’t cum.

“Perfect. Now I’m going to take your gag out. I want you to be quiet for me, okay, Tobirama? It’s time to put that pretty mouth of yours to good use.”

Tobirama sighs in relief when the gag is gone, flexing his jaw to loosen the muscles.

“Alright, now it’s time to earn your orgasms. Purse your lips and give us a kiss.”

Tobirama does as he told, feeling a bit ridiculous, but it’s not lips that meet his, but a wet cockhead, smearing precum on his mouth. He stills in surprise, but his captor keeps going, dragging his cock across his lips. A soft moan reaches his ears, making him flush in embarrassed arousal.

“Feels good, gorgeous. But I’d like some participation here. Give me a kiss.”

Swallow thickly, Tobirama obeys, laying a series of kisses from the wet tip to the base, hesitating a moment before kissing the balls. He’s encouraged to keep going, fingers pressing against his cheeks to open his mouth, to have his tongue come out.

Soft moans fill the room as he licks every inch of his captor’s cock, lapping up the dripping precum. He doesn’t fight when his mouth is pushed open, a hard cock pushing past his lips. At the other’s command, he starts to suck, tongue laving at the sensitive glans every time he pulls out.

It starts out gentle, the other man wanting a show of submission. He does his best to accommodate while his own cock throbs between his legs, dripping with envy. Eventually, the other’s impatience wins out. Hands hold his head still, cock sliding down his throat while he resists the instinct to struggle away.

Unable to breath, he chokes and gags on his kidnapper’s cock. His throat tightens around the tip, discomforting him and bringing the other nothing but pleasure. Being used like this, it leaves him lightheaded and breathless in an entirely different way.

He gulps for air as the other finally slides out, barely given enough time to breath in twice before he’s plunging back in. Precum smears across his tongue, making him shudder at the taste. He doesn’t even realize he’s moaning at first, not until his hair is pulled and it turns into a whimper. The grip gets tighter after that, grabbing two handfuls and holding firm, guiding his head without relenting on the pressure.

It makes his scalp ache and his arousal ratchet higher. He can’t breathe, and it’s the hottest thing he’s ever experienced. His thighs shake, hips desperately squirming.

Tobirama chokes as hot liquid fills his mouth, squirting down his throat and across his tongue as the other man slowly pulls out. Struggling to catch his breath, he manages to swallow some of it while the rest lingers on his tongue. A moment later, a hard kiss steals his breath again, a tongue plundering his mouth, chasing the taste of his cum.

He’s too far gone to fight it, weakly kissing back, needy for any kind of touch. Whines when he pulls away, leaning towards him. He gets a kiss at the corner of his mouth, then all touch disappears.

“Shhh.” A hand pets his hair when he starts to shake. “Don’t fret, gorgeous. We’re not done yet. It’s just time to move to the bedroom.”

A moment passes, then something wraps around his neck, soft leather. A collar? Then the chains come down, arms lowered. He doesn’t struggle as his wrists are handcuffed in front of him. The chains around his ankles completely come off, then the collar is tugged on, encouraging him to stand.

The grip stays on the collar while one hand snakes down to grab his balls from behind. He’d led awkwardly through the house like that, guided by the collar while the hand on his balls feels like a warning to behave.

Still blindfolded, he’s pushed down onto a soft bed. Rolled over onto his back. He stays still as the other gathers up ropes, tying them around his ankles. His legs are lifted up and up, until his feet are behind his head. He shifts awkwardly as his ankles are tied to the headboard, his arms forced to lie flat against the bed as their chain is linked to the foot of the bed. An uncomfortable position to maintain for the average man, but he’s flexible enough to deal with it for short periods of time.

“Okay. Now I just need to get the camera in.”

A minute of silence. Trying not to squirm. Starting to feel vulnerable and exposed without any distractions.

“And I’m back. The camera’s rolling so time to put on a show,” says his captor, a bit gleefully.

Tobirama squints suspiciously, wondering what that’s supposed to mean. He’s not given much time to worry. Firm hands grab his ass, spreading his cheeks, a tongue swiping across his hole. A shocked moan escapes him as the other man does it again, relentless as he laps at one of his most sensitive places.

Trying to jerk away does nothing. He’s held firmly in place, forced to endure the teasing pleasure of that tongue. Hot and wet, it quickly brings him back to the edge. His moans are unmuffled, loud cries spilling from his lips.

A thumb presses into his perineum, sending a new jolt of pleasure through him. His toes curl, fingers digging into the sheets. He tugs against the wrist bindings, trying to reach for his cock, but there’s no slack in the chains.

Tobirama jolts as a hard smack lands across his ass.

“Stop that. You’re not cumming without my permission. And you’re _certainly_ not cumming before I’ve fucked you. I’ve been dreaming about burying myself in that tight ass for a month.”

Tobirama tilts his head away, ears turning hot.

“Ah, did that embarrass you? Surely, I can’t be the only one to admire this ass?” He chuckles wickedly. “I’m sure there are at least a dozen men each show thinking about it. About pinning your legs above your head and fucking into that tight little hole.”

Tobirama shivers as a finger pointedly rubs against his hole. Such crude words. They shouldn’t turn him on this much! But now he can’t stop thinking about it, especially with the leg imagery matching his current position. His captor was in the perfect position, so…

“So why haven’t you?” Tobirama bites his lip as soon as he’s said it, ashamed of letting that slip and of how _wrecked_ his voice sounds.

There’s a startled pause before his captor laughs again. “Desperate for it, already, are you? In that case, I think I’ll make you beg. Ask me nicely for my cock, and I’ll give it to you.”

Tobirama scowls at the mocking words, pressing his lips together tightly. As if…!

His eyes go wide, back arching with a shout as wet heat surrounds his cock, surrounding him to the root. Hands pin his hips down, keeping him firmly in place as the heat slowly leaves, mouth letting go with a quiet ‘pop’. He’s left to squirm uselessly for nearly half a minute before he descends again, taking his sweet time with it.

Then he switches to teasing him with little licks, light and brief along his shaft. He barely even notices when a finger starts prodding at his hole, not until slick digits push their way inside. Gasping as they graze his prostate, nova-bursts of heat going off inside him.

“Mm. You really do have a tight, little hole. Don’t you want me inside you, Tobirama? Stretching and filling you so perfectly?”

“I…..” Tobirama swallows thickly, whispering ashamed, “ _Yes_ , please.”

“Please what? You need to be specific, Tobirama,” He purrs out, smug. “Tell me what you want.”

Tobirama shudders as the other man takes him in his mouth again, sucking all the thought out of his head. He struggles to find words, to figure out what his captor wants him to say.

“F-fuck me? Please?” Tobirama moans as that gets him another finger inside him. “ _Ah! Mm_ ….N-need you…inside me. Please, fuck my….my…..tight, little hole.”

He practically mutters the last phrase, face burning with mortification. It’s clearly the right words, though, as his captor audibly moans. Lips crash down on his, engaging him in a searing kiss.

“That…was the hottest thing I’ve ever heard,” He murmurs against Tobirama’s ear. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you forget your name.”

Tobirama bites back a whine as the fingers disappear, grazing his prostrate on the way out. A moment later, the tip of a cock nudges against his hole. There’s no teasing this time, just a smooth glide as the head pushes past that tight ring of muscles. He lets out a gasping moan as it stretches him open, barely given any time to adjust before the other is moving in earnest.

His body is rocked forward with every powerful thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the room. He futilely pulls at his chains, desperate to get the cock ring off so he can finally cum. His captor quickly notices, telling him to behave with another slap on the ass. They moan in unison as his muscles clamp down around his cock.

“ _Yes_ , that’s it, squeeze down around my cock. So perfect.”

Tobirama treats it like an order, tightening his muscles every time the other pulls out. It feels nearly as good to him as it does to his captor, making them both moan. He can feel the other’s thrusts faltering, losing his rhythm as the pleasure rises higher.

A loud moan echoes in the room, wet heat filling him as the other cums. His fingers clutch at the bedsheets, hips squirming as the other stops moving. He’s made to wait nearly a minute before the other pulls out, replacing his cock with hard plastic a moment later. A dildo?

He’s just starting to wonder if he needs to beg again when his hips are lifted up, folding him nearly in half. The tip of his cock brushes his mouth before a hand wraps around him, stroking firmly. He lets out a strangled moan, shivering as his lips move across his cock.

“That’s it. Open your mouth for me, gorgeous. Keep it open.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Tobirama opens his mouth wide. And _finally_ , the cock ring comes off. The hand around his cock speeds up and pleasure sears through his veins. His vision goes white, cum filling his mouth. He shakes from the force of it, muscles abruptly going slack as he nearly passes out.

Perhaps he does doze off for a moment, as when he comes back to himself, his legs have been untied and placed back down on the bed. His arms are still chained to the footboard, though.

“Awake again?”

Tobirama tenses, his captor’s voice jolting him back to reality. He can hardly believe what just happened. Did he really _beg_ his kidnapper to fuck him? He had that little self-control?

“Such a fierce scowl,” He says, tracing Tobirama’s bottom lip with his thumb.

Tobirama jerks his face away. He scoots as far away from the man as he can, wrists aching as he pulls at the chains.

“Ah, that won’t do. We’ve still got tomorrow and most of the day after to be together. It’s not going to be much fun if you’re pouting the whole time.”

“I’m not pouting!” snaps Tobirama. “You kidnapped me and then…then forced yourself on me!”

The man makes a skeptical noise. “Did I, though? I think the video evidence begs to differ. Shall I play it back for you, let you hear yourself beg for my cock?”

Nausea rolling in his gut, Tobirama shakes his head.

“Then quit throwing a fit. I can always put the gag back in,” He says dismissively. “Now, it’s getting late. Do you want something to eat before we go to bed?”

“I…no. I’m not hungry,” Tobirama says dully.

“Alright then. Bathroom break first.”

His leg tenses as his ankle is suddenly grabbed. Padded cuffs are quickly tied on, a short chain between them. Then padded handcuffs for his wrists. He shuffles off the bed as the man tugs at his forearm, guiding him back to the bathroom.

Then another humiliation. With the blindfold still on, he can’t even aim for the toilet. Instead, his captor holds his penis in position, then gently presses on his stomach until he’s forced to let go. Afterwards, a wet wipe swiped across the head of his cock, and he’s shuffled over to the side of the room for his captor to take his turn with the toilet.

The sound of the sink. Then…brushing his teeth? He waits awkwardly by the wall, wishing he could just take off the stupid blindfold. Physically, he could, but he knows that will just result in punishment. His captor doesn’t want his face to be seen.

“You need to brush your teeth too. Think you can do it with your hands cuffed?”

Tobirama frowns. “They don’t restrict my movements _that_ much.”

“Sure, sure. This toothbrush is new, by the way. No need to worry about germs. You’re not allergic to mint, are you?”

Tobirama shakes his head.

“Excellent. Hold out your hand. I’ve got the toothpaste on it already.”

Tobirama awkwardly brushes his teeth, then is guided over to the sink to spit and rinse. He drinks some of the water at his captor’s prompting, then they head back to the bedroom. His wrist cuffs are chained to the headboard, with enough slack to bend his elbows, while his feet are chained to the footboard, forcing him to lie down.

He scowls as an arm wraps around his waist, his captor _cuddling_ up to his back. All that naked skin pressed together. He can even feel the other’s flaccid cock nestled between the crack of his ass. Trying to scoot away just gets his leg slapped.

Sighing, he tries to relax, so he can fall asleep. Dealing with this all day tomorrow while sleep deprived sounds like a migraine in the making. Eventually, he does manage to doze off, the stress of the day making him exhausted.

The next day, it’s much of the same. Being bossed around, continuously in chains and blindfolded. He’s forced to kneel at his feet each meal while his kidnapper hand feeds him. It’s a relief when the two days are up, even when it means going back into that suitcase.

He’s tied up nearly the same way, minus the leg ropes, thankfully with his clothes still on. Not so thankfully, his captor decides to give him a ‘present’. A large anal plug, buried deep inside his sore ass. And this time, he’s awake for the entire car ride, impatiently wiggling as much as he can while trying not to tense around the plug.

Then he’s dropped off in some alleyway, the key to the cuffs dropped into his hands before his captor takes off. By the time he’s got the handcuffs, gag, and blindfold off, his captor is well out of sight, car and all. He’s fairly close to the camp grounds, though, less than a mile’s walk.

An uncomfortable walk with the plug still in. Even if he could find a bathroom, unless it’s a single occupancy, he’d have to carry the plug out of the stall to throw it in the trash. It would be humiliating if he was caught.

Instead, he just deals with the discomfort of walking back to camp like this. It’s late afternoon, so there’s still a few people up and about. He schools his expression into something neutral, returning any hello’s he receives on the way back to his tent.

He finds his tent locked up, twisting the numbers to input his combination. It unlocks without fuss, all of his possession right where he left them. Either his captor had locked his tent behind him to avoid suspicion or one of his coworkers noticed and wanted to be helpful.

Speaking of suspicion, how had no one noticed an unknown man walking around their campgrounds? Weren’t they supposed to have security patrolling the area to prevent fans from wandering in?

Or, what if he _did_ work here? Employee turnover wasn’t high, but they did have new hires from time to time. Either security guards, maintenance workers, or cleaning staff. Or his captor could have worn the right uniform and knew how to blend in.

Tobirama mulls over the unpleasant thought for a while before pushing it out of his mind. The ordeal was over now. He just…needs to get on with his life. The next two days would be spent driving to their new campgrounds. He would use that time to rest and recover. After that, he’ll focus on work. Pretend the last two days didn’t happen. That his body didn’t betray him.

Tobirama does well pretending nothing is wrong, if he does say so himself. Three days into their new location and no one seems concerned. If his dreams are troubled, no one’s there to see it. And if he occasionally thinks about his captor’s words during the show, about how many men are thinking of fucking him, well….he manages not to get hard, at least.

Of course, life loves to prove that nothing is that easy. Because that night, he receives an e-mail from an unfamiliar sender, an e-mail that only a select few even knows he _has._ The subject line? ‘Watch in Private’.

Double checking that his tent is zipped up, he plugs the headphones into his laptop and downloads the video. His stomach clenches. It’s a heavily edited version of _that night_.

The captor’s face is never seen, but the rest of him is full color. They both are. His hand shakes, hovering over the pause button, but in the end, something makes him keep watching. A morbid sense of curiosity when he realizes how edited everything is.

Several lines of dialogue from his kidnapper are cut out. So is the scene where he’s paddled. It almost makes it look….no, it _does_ make it look like a consensual scene. Especially when the begging starts.

Tobirama bites his fist, cock hardening so fast it’s nearly painful. He can’t…shouldn’t… masturbate to this. It’s not right.

The conviction lasts until he watches himself forced to cum in his mouth. He slips a hand down his pants, rewinding the video to see himself get fucked again. He cums to the sight of his captor finishing inside him, the sound of his pleasure sending a jolt of heat straight to his cock.

Eyes slamming closed, he pants harshly as he comes down from his high. Reaching out blindly with his clean hand, he stops the video. It’s another minute before he can make his eyes open, staring blankly at his sticky hand.

Not letting himself think, he cleans up with a wet wipe, throwing it in his trash bag. His clothes go in the laundry bag, which is nearly full. He’ll need to visit the laundromat soon.

Then, dressed in his night clothes, he sits on the ground and puts his head in his hands. Why the fuck had he responded like that? He wasn’t being physically stimulated this time!

Tobirama sighs. It wasn’t helping to beat himself up over this. He just needs to accept it and move on. First, he responded to the physical touch and, in part, to the bondage because apparently, he has a few kinks he hadn’t known about. Second, seeing the video brought the memories of pleasure up to the forefront of his mind and he reacted.

What happened still pissed him off, and it was wrong of his captor to do that, but…it still felt good. He had physically enjoyed it. Some parts of it had even satisfied him mentally. But overall, he would have preferred it not happen.

In conclusion, he’s going to stop being angry at himself for how he reacted. Enjoying it on some level doesn’t change the fact that it was forced, and he has the right to feel…..however he feels about it.

Now the question is, should he delete the video? It’s surely not healthy for him to keep it. And yet, he’s conflicted. Torn between the side of him that found it arousing and the side that wants to forget it ever happened. Maybe, if he just puts the e-mail with the video link in a separate folder and doesn’t look at it? Then he can wait until he has better clarity of mind to decide whether he should delete it.

Yes, that’s what he’ll do.

Now he can just….forget about all this.


	2. Chapter 2

Tobirama is given another four days to believe life has gone back to normal. On the fifth day, he wakes up in the suitcase. _Again._

Another two days of complete domination and sexual frustration. It shatters his composure, but he’s not the kind to sit and weep. He fights, often and more vigorous than last time, uncaring that his captor punishes him for it.

He’s not ‘allowed’ to cum the entire time he’s there. His ass and thighs feel like one big bruise by the end of it, but it’s worth it to hear how _frustrated_ the other is. The complete lack of cooperation was obviously unexpected. In the end, it’s only the threat of the videos going public that has him subsiding. Sullenly.

Another e-mail shows up a few days later, this one decidedly less edited. It would have been difficult to make that encounter look consensual. Instead, he’s shown a few of his punishments, and at the end, a scene where he’s being obedient. It’s a very clear message.

There’s more paranoia now, when he’s out on stage. Is one of them his kidnapper, watching him with a hungry gaze? It’s stressful, at first, but he’s used to tuning everything out when performing. A misstep could lead to serious injury. It’s only after the show that he starts to worry.

His coworkers notice, of course. He tells them it’s just stress, so now they make an extra effort to talk to him between shows. It does help, having healthy friendships. He can’t tell them what’s truly wrong, not with that blackmail hanging over his head. And…he’s still a bit ashamed. He doesn’t want them to know what happened, can’t bear to talk about it.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t end. He’s almost resigned to it by the fourth kidnapping, knows then that it’s unlikely to stop. Somehow, this man has become obsessed with him, following him from city to city. What career does he even have that he can do that?

He does get a break, about six months in. His coworkers decide to invite him out during the two-day vacation. They go sight-seeing together, even renting a couple rooms at a motel so that they can use the pool and jacuzzi. It does a lot to relieve his stress, at least during the day. At night, his mind frets about how his kidnapper is going to react the next time they meet. Is the man angry? Will he be punished?

And…there’s a very guilty part of his mind that misses the sex. He dreams of their encounters, waking up with wet sheets. There’s a moment where he thinks about going to a bar, picking up a stranger for a one-night stand. Surely, he’s only developing such an attachment to his kidnapper because he’s been the only one giving him pleasure for the last six months?

The fear overrides such an impulse. From the very first day, his captor had wrapped a collar around his throat. If he found out that Tobirama fucked someone else, there’s no telling how he’d react. From ‘punishing’ him to outright murder. The man has an obsessive personality.

Thus, it’s a tense week waiting for how his kidnapper will react to him evading capture this time. Perhaps he’ll send an angry e-mail or leave a threatening note in his tent? It’s become clear to him, by now, that his captor attends several of his shows. But there’s nothing, which is almost more unnerving than the note would have been.

It means he’s more than a bit anxious when he wakes up in the suitcase again, wondering what’s in store for him. He can feel a collar already around his neck, with several ropes keeping him bound. Not leaving any chance for him to escape, huh?

He’s dumped out none-too-gently when they reach the house, tensing his muscles as he leans away from the ground, slowing down his fall. It still leaves him awkwardly laid out on the floor, legs bound to his torso.

“I’m disappointed in you, Tobirama. Skipping out on our date at the last minute.”

Tobirama winces behind the blindfold. There’s a false lightness to his captor’s tone, but he can hear the underlying anger.

“I suppose I can understand to some extent. You are friendly with these coworkers and haven’t gone sight-seeing with them in a while. _However,_ ” he says sharply, “You spend several hours practicing with them each week and perform the actual shows together. Half the time you’re on the road, they’re riding in the car with you.”

Tobirama blinks, wondering how he got _that_ information. Social media, maybe? He only posted every now and then, but some of the others were more into it.

“I, on the other hand, only get to be with you for two days _after_ you’ve been on the road for two to three days and a week of shows. A week where you flaunt yourself in that skin-tight outfit. And now, because you skipped out on me, I had to wait nineteen days!”

Tobirama swallows nervously as the man’s voice quickly grows more and more irritated.

“Now, now, there’s no need to look afraid. I’m not going to hurt you _too_ badly, but you do need to be punished. I’ve got the chains set up. Just need to strap you in. Cooperate with me, and I won’t extend your punishment.”

Mindful of the warning, Tobirama doesn’t fight back as the ropes are removed and his pants taken off. He crawls on his knees to where he’s directed, a hand gripping his collar. Then extends his legs into a full split, metal cuffs going around his ankles.

His shirt comes off next, arms bound behind him, wrists tied near his elbows. Then rope around his balls, tied in a way that it’s always pulling, just enough to be uncomfortable. He shifts around a bit, trying to get comfortable, groaning in pain when he moves his legs forward, the rope harshly pulling at his balls. His captor had tied that rope to his ankle chains without telling him!

“Figured that out, did you? You’re not moving from that pose until I’m satisfied. Now, lift your hips a bit.”

Brows furrowed, Tobirama flexes his legs, pushing himself up. It’s not a very stable position. He doesn’t have the proper leverage to hold this pose for long, which, he realizes a moment later, is something his captor is counting on. A block of _ice_ is slid underneath him, brushing against his balls.

Tobirama flinches away without thinking, hissing in pain as the ropes pull. He’s stuck between two torments, constantly shifting to try and relieve the discomfort. His skin does get used to the cold, to some extent, so he’s able to get the rope to stop tugging for a few moments at a time, before the cold starts to hurt again.

“I’ve barely had to do anything, and you’re already squirming,” he says, sounding fascinated. “Cold is certainly an effective punishment for you, isn’t it?”

Tobirama makes an irritated noise in the back of his throat. A hard smack to the back of his thigh answers him. The sudden pain has him drop, sucking in a sharp breath as his balls land on the ice. He’s not given time to recover, a crop striking against his ass, over and over again. It’s not a warm up tap, either. This is meant to hurt.

He squirms as much he can, unable to hold still, but moving his legs too far just makes the pain worse. All the while, the hits keep coming, alternating between his ass and legs. His skin quickly starts to feel hot and sore.

Tobirama stills as the leather crops brushes across his balls, a threatening caress. It’s the only warning he gets. His whole body jerks as the crop strikes his balls, letting out a stifled scream. The rope goes taut as his legs flail, prolonging the pain.

In the aftermath, he sucks in ragged breaths, sweat sliding down his forehead. He trembles as the crop whistles through the air, but moans in relief when it only hits his ass. His captor gives him the next ten strikes to recover before hitting his balls again. The ice is almost soothing after the hit, taking some of the sting away before the cold becomes too much again.

Tobirama blinks slowly when the hits stop, hearing footsteps. He’s given a minute to wonder what’s going on before his kidnapper returns, unstrapping his ball gag and quickly switching it out with a ring-gag. His nose wrinkles as cold metal is shoved between his teeth, self-consciously turning his head away. He feels even more exposed like this, with his mouth wedged open.

He’s not given long to dwell on his embarrassment. A warm hand touches the center of his chest, glides down to his stomach, then back up for smooth fingertips to circle around his nipples, coaxing them to stand erect. He moans softly as the touch becomes firm, a thumb rubbing back and forth before lightly pinching.

Then cold metal comes into play, mercilessly clamping down onto his tender nipples, drawing a hiss of pain from his lips. He jerks as the chain connecting them is harshly tugged, leaning forward to try and ease the pressure, but his captor just starts to pull up instead.

Back arching, Tobirama gives a faint moan as a slow wave of heat winds through his body. Pain and pleasure intertwine as his captor alternates between harsh and light, teasing tugs. His cock, which has been half-hard since their encounter began, quickly fills to full mast.

“Finally getting interested?”

The tip of a boot nudges against his cock, his hips instinctively pressing into the touch. He shivers as his captor laughs, that deep voice feeling like its own kind of caress. He didn’t even _have_ a voice kink before this man kidnapped him, but the only time Tobirama ever heard him speak was when he was kidnapped for sex. Now, his subconscious associates that voice with possessive hands and a thick cock in his ass.

“That’s good. This is more fun when you’re desperate. Now, tilt your head up for me. Good.”

Tobirama swallows back a moan at the praise, closing his eyes as the other man lets go of the nipple clamps to hold his head in place. Precum drips on his tongue as a cock slowly slides into his mouth, not stopping until it reaches the back of his throat. He breathes through his nose, trying to relax his throat, but that concentration is immediately lost when he’s hit by the crop again.

His captor groans, low and deep, as he chokes around his cock. The sound makes his hips twitch, arousal throbbing with need between his legs. He’s given just a moment to breath as his captor pulls out, then roughly shoves back in, the crop hitting him a moment later.

Tobirama squirms as the leather slides down between his cheeks, rubbing against his hole. But there’s nowhere for him to go, his captor ignoring his protesting noise. He jerks as the leather comes down, right over his sensitive hole, moaning in pain even as his cock twitches, precum leaking from the tip.

“Oh, look at that. Seems your body likes your punishment more than it should. Perhaps I should make your cute little hole as red as your ass, hmm?”

Tobirama’s disagreeing noise is cut off by his captor shoving his cock back in his mouth, holding his head still as he brings the crop down again. His eyes water as he struggles to breathe, hips moving futilely as he tries to avoid the crop.

“Fuck. You have no idea how you look right now, do you?” his captor asks, voice hoarse. “Shaking your ass like that. It’s even better than the show you put on for the crowd.”

Tobirama flushes, embarrassment burning hot. He tries to hold still, but the pain keeps making him react, humiliation deepening every time his ass ‘shakes’. Why did his captor have to say such embarrassing things? Especially with his arousing voice…!

He can’t stop himself from moaning as his captor says more filthy things, body trembling with the need to cum. His eyes fall shut, hips rolling forward as he seeks any kind of friction, groaning as his balls slide across the ice. He loses track of what his captor is saying, words blurring together as just the sound of that voice sends a jolt of heat straight to his cock.

Tobirama whimpers as his captor’s voice trails off into quiet moans, gagging as liquid hits the back of his throat. He struggles to swallow it down, but his captor doesn’t pull out right away, watching him choke. Cum drips down the side of his mouth as he gasps for breath, the taste lingering on his tongue.

He makes a sound of loss as his captor’s touch disappears, and he’s quietly shushed, a hand petting through his hair. This time, he’s able to keep calm when the other man walks away, waiting in silence as he comes back with a cloth to wipe down his mouth. The gag comes out next, but he stays silent, waiting for some sign of what his captor wants.

“Such a pretty sight.” His captor runs a finger over his hole, making him hiss in pain. “Mmhmm. A lovely shade of red to match your ass. It would almost be a shame to keep going and make that color darker, but I’m not sure you’ve learned your lesson yet. Have you, darling? Are you sorry for standing me up?”

“I—yes,” says Tobirama, hesitating over the words. What does he want to hear? “I’m sorry for…missing our date. It was inconsiderate of me. I won’t do it again.”

“Hmm. That even sounded a bit sincere. You promise not to miss any more of our dates, unless there’s an emergency?”

“Yes, sir. I promise.”

“Good boy. You’ve been very obedient during your punishment. I’ve got a treat for you. Let’s get you out of these chains so you can enjoy it.”

Tobirama sighs in relief when the rope around his balls is taken off, though he’s not surprised when it’s replaced with an ordinary cock ring. His captor loves to threaten him with orgasm denial when he’s misbehaving. He might not even get to cum today, if the other man is still annoyed that he missed their date.

The rest of the chains come off next, and he takes a moment to stretch out his legs and shoulders. His captor enjoys watching him stretch, so he’s given a few minutes of peace. Then he’s told to stay here while the other man gets his ‘treat’.

Tobirama frowns as he listens to the other’s footsteps. Was his kidnapper really just going to leave him here? Unchained? He shifts restlessly, hands on his thighs. The stretching hadn’t really done anything to kill his arousal, and it was taking a lot of willpower not to reach down and touch himself now that he wasn’t being monitored.

It was also tempting to take the blindfold off. Six months and he still doesn’t know what his captor looks like. Or even his name! This secrecy was getting old. He was already forced to stay silent through blackmail. Knowing who his captor is wouldn’t change the situation that much.

“Alright, I’m back. Let’s go over to the couch.”

Tobirama tenses, trying not to flinch in surprise. He hadn’t heard the other man return, but now here he was, clipping a leash onto his collar. Undignified, but there was more slack than when his captor grabbed the collar himself and led him by hand.

He follows along as he’d led to the couch, crawling up to lie across his captor’s lap. Biting his lip, he tries not to whimper as his cock drags across the other’s leg. His plight is completely ignored as his captor gets comfortable, setting a plate down on his back while his other hand rests on Tobirama’s ass, casually possessive.

“Now, open your mouth for me. That’s it. Go ahead and eat. It’s good, right?”

Tobirama nods, still chewing. Angel food cake and blueberries. He’s surprised, though maybe he shouldn’t be. His favorite dessert is one of the few things he’s mentioned on social media. He doesn’t eat sweets very often, so angel food cake is perfect for his taste buds. It doesn’t taste nearly as sugary as cheesecake, candy bars, and ice cream.

“Want another bite?”

Tobirama opens his mouth, feeling the other’s fingers against his lips as he sets another piece of cake on his tongue. This seemed to be a favorite of his captor, feeding him by hand. If he can, he even preferred to use his fingers instead of utensils. While he was here, he wasn’t allowed to eat _anything_ without his captor personally giving it to him. He even insisted on holding the glass of water for him.

Honestly, Tobirama wasn’t sure what to think of it. Was it a feeding kink or psychological manipulation? Did his captor want him to associate the pleasure of eating with him? Or did he just like having Tobirama completely at his mercy?

“You don’t seem to be too injured here,” his captor says, gently squeezing his ass. “A lot of redness, maybe some bruising later. No swelling down here.”

Tobirama flinches as the hand slides down, gently cupping his balls. There may not be swelling, but he was still _sore._ He tries not to squirm as the other man continues to fondle him, running his fingers over every inch of reddened skin, including between his cheeks.

“Good. I was a bit nervous. I’ve only done CBT a few times before, and while it went well, I know it has a higher chance of injury than regular impact play. But I needed something different than our normal fun spankings for it to actually feel like a punishment.”

‘Fun for who?’ he wants to ask, but the erection still digging into the other’s thigh wouldn’t help his case. He’s not sure how to feel that his captor was _nervous_ during his punishment. It’s reassuring that he’s at least done this before, but the fact that he was worried about hurting him but still did it anyway….? (He refuses to acknowledge the part of him that’s _happy_ that his kidnapper cares about his well-being.)

“You’re frowning again. Have some more cake.”

Tobirama rolls his eyes behind the blindfold, but doesn’t try to resist being fed. He spreads his legs as the hand dips down again, contently munching on his cake as his captor gently rubs his balls, then further down, fingertips just brushing against his shaft.

He gives a soft moan of pleasure, hips slowly rocking forward as he tries to subtly get some friction on his aching cock. A smack across his ass has him stilling with a reluctant whine, shaking with need.

“Good boy. I didn’t even have to tell you to hold still and you understood. You’ve been so obedient for me today.”

His face flushes with heat as his captor continues to praise him, hand smoothing down his thigh like he’s petting an animal. It’s as condescending as it is hot, being praised for obedience. He bites his lip as it continues for several minutes, cock throbbing without any hope for relief.

“Ah, you look so pretty, desperate for me. Let’s make that desperation even worse, hmm? Get up on your knees for me, pretty boy. Lean over the side of the couch.”

It takes a bit of maneuvering, but Tobirama turns around, his back to the other man as he leans over the armrest. His hips are lifted up by a firm grip, then fingers spread his cheeks wide open, a hot tongue swiping across his hole.

He bites back a shout as pleasure and pain intermingle, thighs shaking as he tries not to jerk away or push his hips back into that maddening tease. The sensation doesn’t stop, steady licks that sting as much as they soothe. He whimpers as the tongue goes lower, instinctively trying to jerk away, but his hips are held firmly as his captor laps at his balls.

Tobirama holds onto the armrest tightly, almost wishing his arms were bound so that he wouldn’t be tempted to push the other man’s head away. Even this gentle touch aches, though there are still sparks of pleasure behind the pain. But it’s the way his captor ignores his squirming that gets to him. He never knew this kind of thing could be arousing, to have someone take what they want from his body.

He gasps out a broken moan as a hand loosely wraps around his cock, slowly dragging down the shaft before a thumb circles around the head. His hips rock forward, but his captor moves with him, keeping his touch light and not allowing him to escape his tongue. But escape is the last thing on his mind now that the pleasure outweighs the pain, pushing his hips back against the other’s mouth.

His captor lets out a pleased moan and gets more aggressive, enthusiastically licking between his cheeks. Tobirama barely lasts a minute before he starts begging, to cum, to be fucked, _anything_. It only spurns the other on, stroking his cock more firmly to make his desperation worse.

It’s not until he loses control and starts trying to touch himself that his captor stops, reaching up to grab his wrists. He struggles half-heartedly, sighing in defeat when his arms are pulled behind his back. Without needing to be told, he stays in that position while the other grabs a pair of handcuffs to lock his wrists in place.

“Well, then, what to do with you now? It was quite naughty of you to try and touch yourself without my permission, but you _did_ hold still while I restrained you. You do try to obey me, don’t you, pretty boy? The excitement just overwhelmed you for a moment. You were begging me to fuck you earlier. Is that still what you want?”

Tobirama licks dry lips, hesitating a moment before nodding.

“And if I were to fuck you roughly? Would you still want it? Answer out loud.”

“….Yes, sir.”

“You’re sure?” he asks, running a hand down Tobirama’s back. “I mean it about not being gentle. I won’t make you bleed or anything, but it’s going to sting.”

Tobirama shivers, biting his lip at the rush of arousal. He manages to utter another yes, perhaps a bit impulsively with the pleasure fogging his mind. All he knows is that he wants more, and he’ll put up with a bit of pain to have it.

He forces himself to relax as hands grip his waist, something slick and hard pressed against his hole. That’s all the warning he gets before his captor’s hips snap forward, stretching him wide open as he buries himself to the hilt. Tobirama loses his breath on a shout, back arching.

There’s no pause before the next thrust, no time to adjust. Just an aching pleasure as his captor seeks his own completion. His mind clouds over, getting lost in the haze of sensation. Held in place, there’s nothing for him to do but lie here and _feel._

He’s brought to the brink of pleasure and held there, that thick cock dragging across his prostate with every movement. His own cock hangs between his legs, the tip just barely brushing against the couch as his hips are kept elevated. Soft moans and whimpers fall from his lips without any attempt to silence himself, too far gone inside his head to be embarrassed.

His entire body shudders as he feels his captor come inside him, whining in disappointment as the other man slowly pulls out. He rests his weight upon the couch, breathing heavily as he tries to come down from the edge. It aches to be denied release, but he keeps his pleas behind clenched teeth. He’ll not beg when he knows it won’t work.

“You did really well, Tobi,” says his captor, running a hand down his back in what’s meant to be a soothing manner. “I’ll be back in a minute with some medicinal cream to help with the pain. Wait here for me.”

There’s a sense of loss when the other walks away, his body still craving another’s touch. And after that experience, even his mind wants the comfort of someone near. He lies in unhappy silence until his kidnapper returns, irritated by his own reaction when he immediately calms at the other’s reappearance.

Still, it’s nice to be taken care of. The cream is cool against his overheated skin, and the pain relief kicks in within only a few minutes. He quickly finds himself dozing off, exhausted after such a long day. His captor leaves him be, removing the handcuffs and tossing a blanket over his shoulders. Then he’s left there to recover, listening to the sound of his captor moving about the house as he falls asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we start to see some new content. The first ~1800 words are from what I had already written in the Afterlife chapter. It would have looked weird if I stuck it at the end of chapter 2 and then continued it in chapter 3. Everything after this line is new: "For now, he lets Madara lay him out across the bed and show him just how _tender_ he can be."

Tobirama takes his time getting to the changing rooms after the last show of the week, waiting until everyone else has finished and left before entering. He had received a vague e-mail yesterday, telling him to visit the locker rooms alone. As instructed, he leaves the door unlocked and looks for the suitcase his captor has left for him.

He finds it in the corner of the room, his name taped on the side. Glancing around to make sure he truly is alone, he hauls it up onto the nearby table and peeks inside. Then slams it closed. Sex toys and rope! What was he expecting Tobirama to do in the locker room?

After a moment of indecision, he opens the suitcase back up. At the top of the pile, a note of detailed instructions. _Embarrassing_ instructions.

Tobirama bites his lip, a low curl of arousal sinking through him as he reads through the note, even as his face slowly turns red. He sets the paper down, tapping his fingers on the table as he stares at the suitcase. Can he really do what his captor asks of him? It would be humiliating if someone walked in on him….but he doesn’t want to be punished for disobedience again.

Put that way, what choice does he have?

He gets the first item out of the suitcase, a small webcam, and plugs it into the wall. The light turns on, showing that it’s recording. He angles it as best he can, then slowly strips, folding his clothes and laying them on the table.

He sorts through the items, finding the leather collar. It’s soft against his neck, just tight enough that he can feel it when he breathes. He snaps it in place with a little padlock, feeling like he’s sealing his fate with that tiny click.

The next thing is…the ring gag. Wedging his mouth open, taking away his ability to speak. He shivers, catching sight of himself in the mirror. There would be no mistaking things if someone walked in.

He slides his hands down his chest, biting back a moan as he skims over his nipples, then down to his legs, brushing his fingertips over his inner thighs. Then back up again to play with his nipples, following his captor’s very detailed instructions as he rolls them between his fingers. Then comes the jewelry, two half rings of silver metal that clip onto his nipples, squeezing with just enough force to stay on. This time, he can’t restrain the moan, curling his fingers as he resists the urge to tug at them. The note hadn’t said he could.

Reaching down, he strokes his cock, achingly slow, just three times before forcing his hand away. Then he attaches the ball harness, hissing at it pulls at them. It was heavy! Was this a residual punishment from their last meeting?

He wants to move onto the next step right away, but the note says to stay like this for a minute, letting the camera get a good look at the harness. Hands flat on the table, counting to sixty as quickly as he dares, nervously glancing at the door.

Then the next embarrassing task. Turning around, back to the camera, spreading his cheeks wide open, shivering as his hole is exposed to the air. Counting to ten before he’s allowed to let go.

Tobirama picks up the dildo and slicks it up. It’s short but wide, his muscles aching as he pushes it inside. He lets out a quiet moan as it presses against his prostate, legs shaking as pleasure sparks through him every time he moves. Like before, he holds himself open, giving his captor a glimpse of the plug inside him.

Now it’s time for the ropes, setting everything down onto the floor within easy reach. He ties a rope around his ankles, then another around his knees. The second one, he connects to a rope on his chest, keeping him from pulling his legs down. A blindfold around his eyes. Then, hesitantly, handcuffing his hands behind his back, the keys not even in the room. He couldn’t escape if his life depended on it, a terrifying thought that shouldn’t make his cock ache.

He scoots awkwardly over to the suitcase, slowly tilting himself inside. Now, all that’s left to do is wait on the floor, hoping that his captor finds him first. What a humiliation it would be to have his coworkers see him like this.

And yet, when the door opens and quiet footsteps approach, his heart jackrabbiting with nerves, his cock twitches, precum spilling out. He has no idea who’s watching him, seeing his most vulnerable moment, but he’s never been this hard in his life. It’s nearly dizzying, how turned on he is, how much he wants to be touched.

A light caress against his cheek has him jerking, tense and on edge as he waits for the other to identify themselves, but they stay silent. Fingers ghost over his lips, then down into his mouth, gliding over his tongue. He’s fairly certain by now that this is his captor, so he cautiously licks at his fingers, relaxing at the sound of familiar laughter.

“Good boy, Tobi. You did so well, following my instructions to the letter. Let’s get you home, so I can reward you properly.”

Tobirama gives a hum that sounds vaguely affirmative, letting himself fully relax as the suitcase is zipped up, hiding him from view. It’s odd being fully awake for this. He thinks his captor usually gives him some kind of drug to make him doze for most of the ride. Now, he gets to listen to the crew moving around as he’s hauled away to the parking lot.

Why is it that no one bothers to stop them? His kidnapper walks around in employee-only sections and goes unnoticed? Was he related to one of the workers? Did he bribe someone to give him a security pass?

Tobirama breathes in sharply as the suitcase is abruptly picked up. No matter how many times it happens, it’s always unnerving. At least he’s no longer afraid that his kidnapper will drop him. The other man’s strength is rather inconvenient, though. He might have been able to get away the first time if his captor wasn’t so strong.

He lets his mind drift during the car ride, almost amused that he can be so _bored_ while trussed up naked. At least the arousal has faded enough that he’s not feeling so needy. He feels ridiculous, getting so worked up without even being touched. Did he have some form of exhibition kink?

Hmm. Perhaps that’s why he enjoys performing in front of the crowds so much? He’s never thought of the attention as sexual, though, despite the form-fitting outfit he wears. It’s his captor that made him think of that, about whether the audience felt desire while watching him bend and stretch.

And now the arousal was back. Just from thinking about others getting hard watching him? Apparently, he does have an exhibition kink. He’s not sure what to do with that information.

But he doesn’t have to think about that now. The car is coming to a stop, and a few minutes later, he’s laid out on the floor of the latest house his captor has rented. He lies still as the ropes are carefully untied, a little confused when they’re not replaced with chains or anything else. Even the gag is removed.

Instead of chains, he’s picked up bridal style and carried over to the couch, placed on his captor’s lap. He shudders as his weight settles down on the plug, rocking it against his sweet spot. His captor waits for the pleasure to pass, holding him gently, almost _tenderly_.

“I’m proud of you today, sweet boy. You were so good for me, following my orders even though you were nervous. I had worried that you were getting rebellious again when you missed our date. But the punishment seems to have corrected any misbehavior. As reward for today, I’m going to give you a show of trust. Though I still have those videos as blackmail, so I expect you not to betray me. My name is Madara.”

In the next moment, the blindfold slips off, and he’s treated to the sight of one of the most beautiful men he’s ever seen. That soft hair that he’s felt brushing against his skin countless times is as a dark as the man’s eyes. Smooth skin that looks well taken care of. Broad shoulders and strong biceps. He’s almost embarrassed by how strong the attraction is, given that this is his _kidnapper_ he’s ogling.

“Oh, look at your pretty eyes,” says Madara, cupping his face. “That’s been the worst part of keeping you blindfolded, not being able to see your eyes glaze over with pleasure. Or to see any other emotion. You have such a fierce gaze.”

Tobirama bites his lip, a squirming embarrassment taking root in his chest as Madara continues to make eye contact. It’s difficult not to look away from such focused attention, but he’s sure Madara would just hold his head in place.

“Ah, that look is cute too,” says Madara. “Give me a kiss, sweetheart.”

His eyes widen at the endearment, and he’s leaning forward before he realizes. Their lips meet softly, and Madara lets him set the pace for once. He can’t bring himself to be anything but gentle. So often, Madara prefers to be rough and possessive during sex, saving the soft touches for the aftercare. He’s aching to be treated tenderly.

He rests his hands on Madara’s chest as their kiss deepens, letting them wander as pleasure shivers through him. It feels good, hearing Madara moan as his hands map out his chest, seeking his most sensitive spots. He knows it _shouldn’t_. This is still his kidnapper, but…

It’s been months since he could touch someone like this. He’s been too afraid of Madara’s reaction to seek out someone else’s attention. And since it’s been heavily implied that Madara intends to _keep_ him, he’ll just need to make the most out of a bad situation. If he has no choice but to get his intimate needs met by his kidnapper, then he refuses to be ashamed of it.

“Hmm. You’re being rather gentle. Shall I let you set the pace today? Is slow sex what you want?” asks Madara.

A moment’s hesitation and then Tobirama nods. It’s unlikely that Madara would listen if he asked for no sex, so gentle will have to be the next best thing.

“Alright, sweetheart, I’ll give what you need,” says Madara. “Let’s go to the bedroom. It’ll be more comfortable there.”

Tobirama hangs onto Madara’s shoulders as he’s picked up, not giving their surroundings much notice. He’ll have plenty of time to look around later. For now, he lets Madara lay him out across the bed and show him just how _tender_ he can be.

His knees are gently pushed apart, lips pressing against his inner thigh. He lets out a shuddering breath, toes curling as Madara nips and sucks at his sensitive skin, leaving scattered marks across his leg. When he reaches the dip where his thigh meets his hip, he switches to his other leg, giving it the same thorough treatment.

“So responsive,” murmurs Madara, smirking at Tobirama’s leaking cock. “Let’s see what I can do to get you to moan for me, hmm?”

Tobirama bites his lip as warm breath fans out over his cock, lips brushing over the head in a feather-light kiss. If he thought such teasing was effective before, being able to _see_ it added an entirely new dimension to everything. It doesn’t take long before he’s moaning, eyes locked on to the sight of Madara laying a series of kisses down his shaft.

Watching his precum lapped up almost undoes him, hips arching before he can think better of it. Madara is quick to hold him down, tsking quietly.

“Naughty boy. We’re taking things _slow_ today, remember? All you have to do is keep you legs spread and moan for me.”

Tobirama huffs silently but obligingly spreads his legs wider. It seems he’s in for quite a lot of teasing today.

“That’s better. Now, let’s have some more kissing. Purse your lips for me, darling.”

Tobirama pauses a moment, wondering if he means a real kiss. There have been times over the past six months that Madara has asked for a ‘kiss’ as a way of telling him to pleasure his cock. But this time, when he purses his mouth, he’s met with lips against his own. 

It’s actually somewhat nice, that gentle pressure against his mouth, a tongue slipping between his lips. He lets himself get lost in the sensation, relaxing against the bed. Though, the longer it goes on, the more _warm_ he feels, heat pooling low in his belly.

Through some impulse he doesn’t fully understand, he lets his hands start wandering, seeking out the places that make Madara arch into his touch. His spine and the back of his neck seem to be sensitive, and lightly pinching his nipples has the other’s hips jerking forward. 

“Feeling playful today, sweetheart?” asks Madara, their lips brushing with every word. “You don’t usually touch back. I like it.”

The tips of his ears heat up, hands stilling on Madara’s waist. The logical part of his brain says that he shouldn’t give his captor any encouragement, but the emotional part of him is craving intimacy. With Madara’s possessive behavior, he hasn’t been able to seek anyone else out. He’s already stuck with the man. He might as well take what he needs from him. 

After a moment’s hesitation, his hands continue moving down Madara’s sides, curving around to squeeze his ass. A bit of payback for all the times Madara has done it to him. 

Madara breaks their kiss with a gasp, staring down at him with lust-darkened eyes. “Little minx. I knew you had it in you, strutting around in skin-tight clothes. I bet you were just waiting for someone to take what was on offer.”

It’s in moments like these that Tobirama truly has to wonder if Madara is delusional or just using his own twisted form of dirty talk. Either way, there’s no point in answering. Madara will act like whatever he says is part of the game. 

Instead, he squeezes his hands again, earning a pleased growl as Madara leans down, putting teeth and tongue against his neck. He swallows back a moan as every sucking kiss sends pleasure sparking through his nerves. 

“Come on, darling. Don’t hold back your sweet moans from me,” says Madara, nipping at the spot on his jaw that has his hips twitching up off the bed. “That’s it. Let me hear you.”

Tobirama huffs irritably, but lets his next moan free, knowing from experience how far Madara will take the teasing if he disobeys. He’s rewarded with another kiss before Madara moves his attention down to his chest, thumbs brushing across the rings still clamped to his nipples.

His next breath comes out as a slight hiss, arching his back. Madara takes it as an invitation, ducking his head to flick his tongue across one pert nipple, barely jostling the clamps. He closes his eyes against the rush of pleasure, cock throbbing as another drop of precum trails down his shaft.

“You’re so pretty like this, on your back for me, face flushed with pleasure. I wonder how long I can tease you before you’ll start to beg?”

Tobirama swallows thickly at the sinful promise in his captor’s voice, realizing with a curl of shame that he was feeling _excited._ When had he stopped being so horrified every time he woke up in that suitcase? He still wouldn’t _choose_ this, but…

It wasn’t...as bad as it could be….

“You like that, don’t you? Want me to give you so much pleasure that you’re pleading for my cock.” Madara grins as his face gets hotter, flicking his fingers against against the nipple clamps. “Tell me, sweetheart, would you rather I keep these on or take ‘em off so I can suck on your pretty nipples?”

Tobirama tenses, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Yes, I do expect an answer,” says Madara, amused. “Come on, now. I won’t judge you. Either you want my tongue and the clamps squeezing you just right or you want my lips wrapped around you. Which one sounds better, darling?” 

“I—um—the second—“ Tobirama squirms with embarrassment, voice dropping to a whisper. — “The second one.” 

Madara hums with pleasure. “You want my mouth on you, pretty boy?”

Tobirama nods, avoiding Madara’s eyes.

“No need to be shy, Tobi. I’ll happily put my mouth on you any time of day.”

Tobirama closes his eyes against the spike of heat _that_ imagery conjures up, hissing between his teeth as Madara uses his moment of inattention to pull the clamps off. A second later, he’s arching his back, lips wrapped around his nipple while the other one gets pinched and pulled on.

He doesn’t realize his hands are moving until they’re tangling in soft hair, instinctively holding Madara in place. His hips rock up, moaning as the tip brushes across bare skin. He’s not even scolded for it, Madara giving a pleased hum as he sucks harder.

Madara keeps going until his squirming is from discomfort, and even then, all he does is switch between them. Sucking and pinching until they’re aching, sore, and red, whimpering low in the back of his throat.

“ _Please,_ ” Tobirama gasps out, tugging at Madara’s hair. 

“Hmm?” Madara gives an inquisitive hum, pulling his head up. He looks from Tobirama’s face to his reddened nipples, licking his lips. “Overwhelmed is a good look on you, Tobi. Still, I’m not a cruel Master. I’ll let your nipples recover while I tease your pretty cock.”

Tobirama exhales with relief, relaxing against the bed. His nipples are left alone as Madara presses a kiss against his chest, trailing down to his stomach, lingering around his hipbones as he nibbles at the sensitive skin. He tries not to squirm as marks are sucked into his skin, so close to where his body desperately wants to be touched. 

Is he going to have to beg? Usually, Madara focuses on getting him so keyed up that he’s willing to beg to be fucked. He’s never made him ask to be teased before. 

But just as he’s preparing himself for the indignity of it, Madara finally moves lower, soft lips brushing across the head of his cock before a warm tongue laps up his precum. It’s not any less arousing to watch the second time around, staring transfixed as Madara slowly takes his cock into his mouth.

Clutching at the bedsheets, his hips twitch faintly, stomach clenching with pleasure. A long, drawn out moan escapes his throat as Madara swallows around the head of his cock, whimpering as the other’s cheeks hollow, sucking firmly as he pulls his head up.

“Feels good, sweetheart?”

Tobirama nods quickly, then realizes Madara was waiting for a verbal reply. 

“Y-yes. It’s—it’s good.”

“I’m glad. I want to make you feel really good, Tobi. Do you like it better when I lick your pretty cock or suck on it?” asks Madara.

Tobirama makes a strangled sound, turning his face away as his neck gets hot.

“Oh? I didn’t know your blush could go that low,” says Madara, amused. “Come now, darling. Don’t be shy. I just want to know what you like best.” 

“I don’t—I don’t know.” 

“Well, then, I guess I’ll just have to do both until you can give me an answer.”

Tobirama’s eyes snap back to Madara at the other’s wicked tone, but Madara is already lowering his head, tongue smoothly gliding up his shaft. His mouth drops open, squirming as Madara licks every inch of him, even dropping down to trace along his balls. 

His cock is aching by the time Madara takes him back into his mouth, his hips held down as he fails to keep himself still. Distantly, he’s aware of the loud whimpers and pleading moans he’s letting out, but the pleasure outweighs any feeling of embarrassment. 

He twitches as a hand gently grabs his balls, giving them a soft tug. Then lower, slowly pulling the dildo out, leaving his hole clenching at the sudden emptiness. He only has time for a quick breath before the dildo is _shoved_ back in, choking on a cry as Madara sucks him down to the root.

He’s given no reprieve as Madara continues to twist the dildo inside him, yanking it out and angling for his prostate as he shoves it back in. All the while, his head bobs up and down, tongue laving the head of his cock before swallowing him down. 

“ _Please,_ I c-can’t—”

Madara cuts him off with an amused hum, tugging at his balls. He pulls his mouth off with an obscene pop, flashing his teeth up at Tobirama in a wicked grin.

“Decided yet, pretty boy? Licking or sucking?”

Mind clouded with pleasure, Tobirama picks the one that sounds right in the moment. He doesn’t know if he truly likes it better, but he needs to say _something._ Anything to stop this endless teasing.

“Oh?” Madara makes an intrigued sound. “Licking, really? We’ll have to do an experiment sometime, see how quickly I can make you cum with just my tongue. You would enjoy that, wouldn’t you, darling?” 

Tobirama shudders at the thought, his cock giving a telling twitch. <

“Thought so. But for now, let’s move on. Teasing you has gotten me excited too. Come up here and sit in my lap, sweet boy.”

It takes a moment for the request to sink in, but when it does, he moves forward at a relaxed pace. Not deliberately slow, but he refuses to rush forward to sit on the other’s cock, no matter how much his body is begging for it.

Madara drags his hips down as soon as he’s within range, hissing in pleasure as their cocks slide together. He holds Tobirama in place for a moment, enjoying the friction. Then his impatience wins out, sliding the plug out in one smooth movement and tossing it to the other side of the bed.

“There. Now be a good boy and fuck yourself on my cock. After I’ve filled you with my seed, I’ll let you cum too,” says Madara.

Tobirama doesn’t need any more encouragement than that, reaching down to hold Madara’s cock in place as he sinks down. He grits his teeth as it stretches him open, nerves lighting up with pleasure. Using Madara’s shoulders as leverage, he slowly starts to rock his hips, breath catching as it grazes his prostate.

“That’s it, darling. Keep aiming for your sweet spot. Make yourself whimper for me.”

With a direct order in place, he doesn’t dare disobey, angling himself so that each thrust has him seeing stars. He doesn’t purposely make himself whimper; that happens as the pleasure builds and builds with nowhere to go, slamming his hips down with rising desperation.

Madara groans, low and deep, teeth clamping down on Tobirama’s shoulder as he thrusts up into his clenching channel. Tobirama whines as he’s forced to hold still, warmth filling him as Madara cums deep inside.

Tobirama squirms desperately as the silence stretches on, his captor’s breath hot against his neck. Finally, he gets a response, a soft chuckle followed by hands slipping between them, undoing the ball harness. 

“Say my name as you cum, pretty boy,” says Madara, wrapping his fingers around Tobirama’s cock.

It doesn’t take long, a few firm strokes of his cock and he’s moaning out a soft _‘Madara’_ as the pleasure whites out his vision. He goes boneless in his captor’s arms, still seated on his cock as every muscle relaxes. 

Madara gives a pleased hum. “Good boy.”

Tobirama hides his face in Madara’s neck, uncomfortable now that the rush of arousal was gone. His emotions conflict as Madara rubs his back, relaxing as the soothing touch even as his mind screams that this man was not, in fact, his lover. This was his _kidnapper._

Was he developing Stockholm syndrome? 

Could he even do anything about it, if he was?

How long was this obsession of Madara’s going to last? This interest in turning Tobirama into his….his what? Pet, lover, sex slave? Was he delusional enough to think Tobirama wanted this? That he ever _would_ want this? 

“You were so obedient for me today. I think that deserves a treat. You can choose what we order for takeout tonight, dessert included. And you can pick which movie we watch. The tv in the living room connects to those paid streaming sites. Wait, do you like movies? You don’t post much about yourself on social media...”

Tobirama interrupts before he can keep rambling. “Yes, I like movies. Though, I can be a bit _selective_ when it comes to what I’ll watch.” 

“Selective is fine.” Madara is quick to assure him. “And what about dinner?”

Tobirama sighs. “...I haven’t had curry in a while.”

“Curry it is. I’ll start looking up places that deliver. Why don’t you go pick out a movie? I should still be logged in,” says Madara. “….Though, maybe we should clean up a bit first.” 

“Good idea,” says Tobirama, dryly.

“Don’t be a brat,” admonishes Madara, giving him a quick kiss before nipping his lip. “Time to get up. We can wipe down with a washcloth now and take a bath before bed.” 

Tobirama lifts off from Madara’s lap with a silent hiss, wrinkling his nose as semen begins to drip out of him. He hurries to the bathroom while Madara leisurely follows, searching the cabinets for washcloths. It takes him longer to clean up, determined to get rid of the sticky feeling between his legs. 

Then he trots off to the living room, idly scrolling through movie options until he finds one he probably won’t hate. Madara joins him soon enough, showing him an online menu to order from. Once they’ve made their selection and gotten a confirmation message, they start up the movie.

Madara sits close enough for their legs to touch, but doesn’t yet put his arm around Tobirama’s shoulders. It’s...probably just a matter of time. The other man is definitely acting like this is a date. 

“Not a bad choice,” murmurs Madara, as the movie goes on. “I’m glad our taste in movies is at least somewhat similar.”

Tobirama gives a noncommittal hum and continues staring at the screen. Their food shows up halfway through the film, Madara pausing it to answer the door. He tips the delivery driver before bringing the bags in, passing one of them to Tobirama.

Inside is a takeout bowl and plastic spoon. He pops open the container, breathing in the wonderful scent as the steam wafts up. Like this, with good food in his belly and the movie playing in the background, he could almost call himself….content.

Ridiculous.

This whole situation is just...ridiculous.

But it’s still better than those sex tapes getting out. Despite the arousal he’s felt at the idea of getting caught, he doesn’t truly want anyone else to see him that way. He would never be able to show his face on the stage again, knowing some of the audience had seen that. And that was assuming he even got to keep his job.

Such a public position might not be able to handle such controversy. Especially with Madara editing the tapes to make him look like a willing participant…

Tobirama shakes his head to dispel such maudlin thoughts, focusing back onto the movie. He accepts the drink Madara hands him when the spice starts to burn his tongue, grudgingly impressed by how attentive the other is. If he’s going to force Tobirama into this situation, then taking care of him is the least he can do. 

They make it to dessert before he feels the couch dip as Madara scoots closer, using one of those fake yawn and stretch moves to drape an arm across his shoulders. He doesn’t bother responding to it, not even to tense up. But he does side-eye Madara when his free hand drifts down to his stomach, rubbing idle circles around his abdomen. 

When Madara does nothing more than that, he returns his attention to the movie, slowly relaxing into the soft touch. And even as the minutes pass, he keeps his hands above the belt. He truly was just cuddling, not trying to initiate sex again.

Tobirama doesn’t remember closing his eyes, the stress of the day catching up to him as the tv drones on in the background. A soft voice murmurs against his ear, strong arms gently scooping him up. A sense of weightlessness before he’s set upon a soft bed. The mattress dipping as his companion joins him, warmth along his side. Then nothing as his consciousness loses the fight to stay awake, filling his mind with pleasant dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow, a lot of my chapters end with a character falling asleep....Apparently, it's the easiest place for me to decide 'Chapter's over. Onto the next one!'


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here's chapter four! This'll be the last quick update for this story, as I had chapters 1-4 written out before I started posting. I've got some concrete ideas for chapter 5, so I should be able to start working on it right away. But inspiration comes and goes, so we'll see how long it takes.
> 
> If any of you have ideas of what you'd like to see in this story, let me know in the comments. While I do have a set idea of where the story is going, the journey there has room for detours.

Tobirama checks his phone between shows, surprised to find a text message. It’s only been a few days since his last ‘date’ with Madara, where he finally learned the man’s name. Usually, he waits until the middle of his show week to send him video clips of their time together. He doesn’t often text.

— _Head into the bathroom when you have a break. Take some slick with you and let me know when you get there._

Frowning at his phone, Tobirama debates what he should do. At the very least, he should probably find out what Madara wants before deciding if it would be worth punishment to refuse.

He stops by his tent and heads for one of the bathrooms that are farther down the campgrounds. Still a couple of people already inside, but no waiting line. And it’s mostly used by other circus members. Locking the stall door behind him, he sends out his text.

— _I’m here._

The reply comes so quickly, Madara must have been waiting by his phone.

— _Send a selfie, darling. Are you in your lovely uniform?_

Seriously? Did he want the toilet in the background too?

Stifling a sigh, Tobirama shoots off a quick picture. And yes, he was in uniform. While he did change partly through the day, it would be ridiculous to do so after every show.

— _Good boy. Prop up your phone on the back of the toilet. You’re going to take a video for me. At least thirty seconds. Lube up two of your fingers and fuck yourself with them._

Tobirama scrubs a hand down his face, exasperated and annoyed. Bad enough that Madara recorded him, now he was to send in his own blackmail material? That hardly seems fair, but the request wasn’t bad enough to risk punishment.

Setting up the camera, he gets the bottle of lube out of the bag he brought with him. Facing the stall door, he slides his pants down to his knees. Glancing back to make sure the camera is aimed correctly, he slicks up two of his fingers, pressing them against the rim of his hole.

He braces his other hand against the door, slowly pushing his fingers inside. It’s mostly just uncomfortable at this point, his cock flaccid between his legs. A bathroom isn’t exactly the most erotic of places to do this, but he shudders to think of what Madara will do if he doesn’t get the show he wants.

Tobirama closes his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his fingers moving inside him. Footsteps pass by his door. Water sounds in the distance.

Can anyone hear the slick sounds his body makes as his fingers move in and out? The sound of his breath deepening? And why is it that thought that finally has his cock hardening, pulse thundering in his ears?

Biting his lip, he tugs at his rim, fingers stretching out. How well is the camera picking up on what he’s doing?

It’s probably been at least a minute since he started. Madara will be waiting for his video.

He hesitates a moment before leaving his fingers inside, shuffling awkwardly to the camera. It’s a bit difficult to send the video with his off hand, but he manages, waiting for further instruction impatiently.

— _Very nice. You’re being so obedient for me today, Tobi. And your fingers are still inside, aren’t they? Go ahead and rub your sweet spot for me. Don’t stop until I tell you to._

Tobirama shudders, angling his fingers. His mouth drops open, biting back a moan at the last second. Rubbing his fingers in small circles, he doesn’t let them stop even as his phone vibrates with another message, blinking past the pleasure to focus on the text.

— _Does it feel good, sweetheart?_

Fumbling with the phone, he sends the first thing that comes to mind.

— _Yes, sir._

— _Good boy. Take a picture of your face for me, sweet boy. I want to see your pleasure._

Tobirama bites his lip as he sees himself in the screen, glazed eyes and flushed cheeks. Rubbing his fingers more firmly, he takes the picture, embarrassment pulsing hotly in his stomach as he sends it.

— _Such a lovely image. You can be sure I’m going to touch myself, thinking of cumming across your face. But you have a show to get to, lovely boy. Go ahead and take your fingers out. You should have just enough time to calm down before your show starts. And don’t even think about cumming u_ _ntil_ _tonight._

Tobirama huffs in frustration, reluctantly sending out another _‘Yes, sir’_ before pulling his fingers out. He puts the lube and his phone back into his bag, straightening his clothes. Unfortunately, in his skin-tight uniform, his erection is _really obvious._

It takes at least fifteen minutes before he can calm down. He keeps thinking of Madara’s last words, that he’ll be masturbating to his picture. Or the fact that he doesn’t have time to clean up before his next show, that he’ll be performing in front of hundreds of people with lube inside him.

The night can’t come soon enough, forcing himself not to rush through conversations with his coworkers. He’s not going to let this thing with Madara sour his other relationships.

Still, it’s a relief to be alone in his tent, zipping it closed before undressing. The only issue now is whether he’s supposed to text Madara before doing anything. Madara hadn’t _told_ him to, yet he still finds himself getting out his phone.

— _Is_ _it tonight yet?_

Tobirama waits impatiently for a reply, putting his clothes away for something to do. He puts down a towel in case there’s a mess, heartbeat picking up as the phone chimes.

— _You remember that bag I left with you? Put on your collar and undress. I want to see you._

His face heats as he remembers the bag of sex toys Madara forced him to take home with him, digging it out from the rest of his possessions. The leather collar fits around his throat comfortably, still just as snug as when Madara last put it on him, feeling it every time he breathes.

He snaps a few pictures and sends them on, digging through his supplies for the lube.

— _Good boy. Let’s finish what we started earlier, hmm? Find one of your dildos. You can pick which one for being so good today. Set up the camera and show me how lovely your little hole looks being stretched open. I want to see you fucking yourself. Then stop right as you’re on the edge and send the video. If you put on a good enough show, I’ll let you cum tonight._

“Fuck,” whispers Tobirama, cock rapidly filling out. That didn’t have any right to be as hot as it was. Somehow, even the thought of not being allowed to cum was making him hard.

He quickly digs through his collection and finds one of medium size. Unfortunately, it takes longer to set up his camera, his real camera this time, propped up on the tripod. He zooms in to give Madara a good look at his cock and hole, taking a test video to make sure it’s aimed correctly.

By the time he’s ready to start, his cock is leaking, begging to be touched. But Madara was very clear in his message. The thought of touching himself before starting the video doesn’t even occur to him, laying down on his back with his legs spread and knees pointed at the ceiling.

He uses his fingers first, taking barely a minute to get himself lubed and somewhat stretched. Then comes the dildo, pushing it in slowly, feeling it against his rim. His breath comes in soft pants, heat singing through his veins. His nipples ache, sticking straight up as they beg for a mouth to suck on them.

Cupping his palm over his mouth, he muffles his moans as he shoves the dildo deeper, muscles clenching as it drags along his inner walls. He starts off slow, a tease for both of them. Then gradually increases the pace, feeling precum drip down the head of his cock.

His thighs shake as he gets closer, biting his finger as whimpers try to burst free from his throat. He keeps going until he’s on the precipice, shoving the dildo all the way in, abruptly pulling his hand away, clutching at his hair as his hips twitch.

The camera gets a good view of him trembling with denied pleasure before he works up the willpower to get to his feet. Then he spends an uncomfortable few minutes uploading the video to his laptop and sending it via e-mail. This was probably part of Madara’s plan, choosing the camera not just for better quality, but so Tobirama would be forced to wait.

— _I sent the video. What now?_

— _Wait for me to watch it. Is the dildo still inside you?_

— _Yes, sir._

— _Good boy. Keep it in for now._

Tobirama sighs, fidgeting as he keeps checking the time. The video couldn’t be that long, right? Was Madara thinking of what he wanted him to do next? Or was he currently masturbating to the video, pleased at making Tobirama wait so long?

— _You’re so beautiful with your hole stuffed, Tobi. Turn the camera back on. Put your feet behind your head with the dildo still in and stroke your cock for me. Try to see if you can cum across your face and imagine it’s my seed painting your lips white._

Tobirama silently despairs the death of his good taste as his cock throbs at Madara’s instructions. Repressing a sigh, he gets the camera running again and lies down. It’s an awkward position to hold, but he stretches his legs up, hooking his feet behind his neck. Then the difficult part, lifting his hips enough to aim his cock at his face.

He uses one hand to try and support his hips while the other wraps around his cock. It almost feels _too_ good after waiting so long, biting his lip to hold in a moan. While he doubts anyone passing by would care, he still has no desire to be overheard.

Well, he amends as his stomach pulses with heat, almost no desire to be overheard. The embarrassment would certainly last longer than the arousal, at any rate.

Tobirama forces himself to focus, hissing out a soft breath as he starts to move his hand. The pleasure makes it difficult not to squirm, legs tensing as he keeps himself in place. Eventually, he can’t hold back anymore, little whimpers escaping his throat as his hand speeds up.

The end of Madara’s text comes to mind just as he’s cumming, images flashing through his head. Madara kneeling over him, whispering _Good boy_ in that sinfully deep voice. A thick cock against his lips, pushing into his mouth, a salty taste against his tongue, and then hot seed splashing across his lips.

The images are so vivid that he almost calls out Madara’s name as he cums, shame and semen spilling across his face. He pants heavily in the aftermath, lowering his legs gingerly back onto the ground.

Time passes in a fog of conflicted emotions before he forces himself to his feet. Madara will be wanting that video soon. He wipes away swears of cum with the back of his hand as it tries to drip into his eye, hitting send with his other hand.

— _I’ve sent the next video. Do you have any other instructions before I go to bed?_

— _No, you’ve earned your rest. Goodnight, sweetheart._

This time, Tobirama lets himself sigh, reaching for the towel. Madara was seriously still using those pet names? Acting like they were _lovers._

“Delusional man,” he mutters quietly, grimacing when the words almost sound _fond._

Every time he thinks he’s getting used to his growing Stockholm Syndrome, it hits him just how _wrong_ this situation is. Is it always going to feel like this? As much as it pains him to think he might one day give in to the delusion, it might at least be less stressful than going back and forth like this.

Tobirama sighs again, lying down on his air mattress. No point in dwelling on it right now. Instead, he forces his mind to calm, taking deep breathes until he falls asleep.

The next few weeks pass much the same way. Getting texts from Madara between shows. Sometimes for a picture and other times just to talk. Seems the man was serious about acting like lovers. He plays along mostly to avoid punishment, but knowing more about his captor might help him in the future. 

The days Madara teases him are the worst. Trying not to let his coworkers see how worked up he’s getting, needing to cool down before his next show starts. Or maybe the worst part is that he’s getting used to it. Yesterday, Madara flirted with him until the sun went down, and it felt normal. Today, he barely received any texts at all and nothing sexual. 

It’s left him embarrassingly on edge and almost….bereft. He should be happy the clingy asshole is leaving him alone for a while, not whatever this feeling is. It’s not like he wouldn’t be seeing him tomorrow, anyway. That was probably the reason Madara was so quiet. He was preparing things for their ‘date’.

He should just let the matter go and wait. And yet when he goes to bed that night, he wakes up around midnight, restless and aroused. Just stroking his cock doesn’t hold any appeal, the sense memory of his dream lingering. He digs through his toy bag, pulling out one of his larger dildos, the kind that look realistic with the fake balls and a suction cup. Though, that last feature was more of an impulse buy since he doesn’t exactly have somewhere to stick it to in his tent. 

His fingers brush across his leather collar as he continues searching, hesitating a moment before taking it out. It’s not necessarily _comforting_ to wear it, but he can’t deny it has a certain appeal. He’s forced to wear one every time he’s with Madara and now just slipping it on makes a shiver of desire go down his spine. 

His nipples harden in the cool air as he takes his shirt off, lying on his back with the dildo in hand. It’s a bit weird slipping it into his mouth, a harder texture and none of the warmth of a real cock. But the dream spurs him on, cock twitching with interest as he lets the dildo sink down into his throat. 

Acting on impulse, he grabs his phone and snaps a picture, sending it off to Madara before he can overthink it. Then he waits for a reply, slowly dragging the dildo in and out of his mouth as his other hand lazily wanders over his chest. It’s when the wait stretches out past five minutes that he starts to get nervous. Was Madara…. _upset_ that he sent him a picture? He assumed the man would enjoy Tobirama initiating things, but he was a bit of a control freak. 

The phone buzzing sends his heart racing, hesitating before he swipes the message open. 

— _Naughty boy. Sending me such a lewd picture in the middle of the night. Very well. If you want to play, we’ll play._

His cheeks turn red as the messages start pouring in, heat pooling low in his abdomen.

— _Bring your camera and that dildo into the showers. Make sure you’re alone. Take off your clothes and leave them outside your stall. You can close the door once you’re inside. Set up the camera and start recording. Put that dildo against the wall and start sucking. Hands behind you’re back. Really deep throat it. I want to see some drool._

— _Imagine it’s me. Violating your throat, holding your head in place. But tonight I’m in the mood to cum inside your ass. After a few minutes of foreplay, I want you to turn around and fuck yourself on my cock. You can prepare yourself before you leave your tent, but you know I like to watch. Will you be a good boy and prepare yourself in the shower?_

— _You can come on my cock tonight, but don’t even think about touching your own._

— _And you’d better hope no one interrupts you. If you even pause when someone enters the room, you’ll not cum at all during our weekend together._

Tobirama quickly gets dressed, gathering up his supplies in a bag. Rather than going to the nearest shower house, he chooses the one with the least foot traffic. With this many people, there’s a chance that the busiest ones will still be in use, even this late at night.

His luck holds out when he reaches the showers. There’s not a single person inside, the room completely dark. He flips on the back lights, leaving half the room in shadow, making his way to the last stall. Anticipation thrums through him as he undresses outside the stall, his cock hard between his legs as he folds his clothes and puts them on the bench. 

Then he gets out the camera, starting the video so Madara can see he followed his instructions. He leaves it running as he sets up the tripod, pointing it at the wall. Double checking the stall door is locked, he slides to his knees, positioning the dildo at face height.

He licks his lips, crossing his arms behind his back. Then with a deep, steadying breath, he takes it in his mouth, giving a low moan as it hits the back of his throat. Remembering Madara’s text, he thinks back to the times Madara was rough with him, when he wanted it fast and hard. No kisses and licks, just pure facefucking. 

It’s difficult to be that rough with himself, but imagining Madara’s hand in his hair helps. He thinks of it pulling him forward, holding him in place a moment before he’s able to tug his head back, sucking in a quick breath before surging forward again. 

His hips twitch as he forces himself to hold still, cock throbbing at the ache in his throat. He really did get off on this, didn’t he? Of all the people Madara could have chosen to kidnap, he somehow found someone whose kinks matched his own. At least it made the situation _slightly_ less traumatizing.

He bobs his head, barely giving himself time to breath, lashes fluttering as his eyes start to water. Saliva pools in his mouth, dripping down the side of his mouth. He loses track of time as he violates his throat for Madara’s pleasure, eventually pulling off with a desperate gasp as his cock feels like it’s about to burst.

His eyes trail down to his cock with a confused frown. He had noticed his body reacting when Madara was rough with him, but to this extent? Perhaps the rougher blow jobs had simply never lasted long enough for him to cum from it? Not that he would have been _able_ to with how often he was in a cock ring….

Well, there was no point dwelling on it now. Madara would either notice his reaction or he wouldn’t. He certainly wasn’t going to _volunteer_ the information. 

Tobirama reaches into his bag, pulling out the bottle of lube. Making sure the camera has a good view, he slicks up his fingers, shifting forward until his ass is tilted up into the air. By now, he knows the kinds of things Madara likes to see, holding his cheeks apart as he rubs slow circles around his hole.

But Madara wouldn’t tease him for long if he had just fucked his face, so he quickly slips in two fingers, pulling them apart as he tugs at the rim of his hole. He doesn’t give himself more than a minute to prepare, moving the dildo down to a more manageable height as he lines himself up. Then he all but slams his hips back, letting out a low hiss as the stretch burns. 

He doesn’t give himself time to adjust, legs shaking as he sets a punishing pace. Pleasure pulses hotly in his stomach even as his muscles ache, a heady mix of ecstasy and pain. He’s going to feel this tomorrow as he bends and twists for the crowd. The thought alone is nearly enough to send him over the edge, but he holds back, gritting his teeth as moans threaten to come trembling out of his throat.

His breath comes out in harsh pants as his ass slaps against the wall, taking the dildo in deep. He knows he’s being too loud, that anyone who came in would be able to hear his stifled moans, but he’s not sure he could stop even if he was caught. It all feels too good, stomach clenching with helpless pleasure as he stares up at the camera, letting Madara see his eyes haze over as he loses control.

He lets his semen spill onto the tiled floor, rather than catch it and lick it up like he knows Madara would prefer. It’s simply not something he’s willing to do without an explicit order, no matter the small part of him that might actually enjoy the act. Though, if he’s being honest with himself, the pleasure in it might come from being ordered to do it. He’s certainly never been interested in it before.

Tobirama gives himself a moment to catch his breath before he starts cleaning up. He moves the camera to the far corner and adjusts the shower spray away from it. Then he hangs his bag up, putting the lube away and getting out a bottle of shampoo. He’s not sure whether Madara will want to watch him shower, but he keeps the camera pointed in his direction just in case. 

And he pointedly doesn’t think about why he cares what Madara wants. It’s just easier to keep his blackmailer happy. That’s all.

He doesn’t linger in the shower, washing his hair and the sweat off his skin. Then he towels off and puts away the camera. His clothes are right where he left them, no evidence of anyone having entered the room while he was occupied. 

Good. 

There _probably_ wouldn’t be any repercussions if someone caught him masturbating in the shower, aside from some gentle ribbing, but he doesn’t want to take any chances. Living so close together, it was almost inevitable that they’d see each other in vulnerable moments. He’s overheard some of the others being teased for being caught, either for solo masturbating or making out in semi-public places. From what he can tell, as long as they aren’t being blatant about it, no one really seems to care. 

Still, he’s a private man. No matter the flare of heat at the idea of being caught, he doesn’t actually want anyone to see him like that. 

Tobirama doesn’t waste any time getting dressed, slipping on his sandals before heading back to his tent. No one gives him any weird looks on the way, so he’s probably in the clear. Now to review the video and send it to Madara. 

Thirty minutes later, his face feels like it’s on fire as he hits ‘send’. 

He hadn’t realized when he was making the video just how into it he looked. There wouldn’t be any hiding from Madara how much he had enjoyed that. With any luck, he’ll only ask him to do more things like that and not….escalate. 

What they were doing was already risky enough. He truly isn’t interested in getting caught. 

Tobirama falls asleep waiting for Madara’s response, only briefly stirring as his phone chimes. He has the distant thought that he should check it, but it quickly drifts away. In the morning, he’ll find a series of texts from Madara, praising his performance and correctly guessing why he hasn’t answered yet. As well as a promise to have twice as much fun on their ‘date’. And if that last one makes him shiver with excitement more than dread….well, there isn’t anyone else around to see it.


End file.
